


Who We Are

by BelieverQueen



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-06 20:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15202604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelieverQueen/pseuds/BelieverQueen
Summary: Set during the season 7 curse. Henry receives some troubling news and goes to his best friend Roni for comfort. They sleep together and the curse breaks. How will they deal with what happened between them when they remember who they are? Warning: Non-biological incest ahead.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing BelieverQueen. I'm not sure if I will continue this story or not. Feedback would be much appreciated.

**Chapter 1**

H: It’s been an unusually stressful day and that’s saying something; I've come to redefine the word stressful since I moved to Hyperion Heights. Jacinda told me earlier that she’s decided to give Nick a second chance. I thought we really had something, but apparently I was wrong. There’s only one place I want to go and one person I want to see now. If anyone can make this situation seem less grim, Roni can. I walk through the deserted streets at 4 AM and sidestep puddles here and there. It’s been raining and my clothes are soaked through, plastered to my skin. I find my way to Roni's apartment, which is located directly above her bar, and I knock three times on the worn wooden door.

 

R: It’s just past four o’clock in the morning and I can’t sleep. I'm dressed in a thin white tank top and black shorts. I've tried everything I can think of to sleep but it’s not happening. I've just resigned myself to staying awake and brewing a pot of coffee when I hear a triple knock on my door. Frowning, I glance at the old fashioned clock on my living room wall and wonder who could be here at this hour. Only one way to find out. I grab my baseball bat as an added precaution then unlock the door. I'm surprised but not displeased to find Henry standing on the other side. “Henry,” I say as I tuck the bat into the corner. “What are you doing here?” My eyes roam over him quickly and I grab his arm to tug him into my apartment.

 

“You're wet and freezing,” I observe with a scowl and a shake of my head. He looks at me like I'm some mystery he's trying to puzzle out. I have no idea what he’s thinking right now and it’s a little unsettling. Instead of giving me a verbal response, he grabs my face in both hands and crashes his lips against mine. I stiffen instantly and hear a surprised squeak being muffled by the kiss. This is certainly the last thing I expected. He’s decades younger than me and in love with another woman. It doesn’t matter that he’s strong and attractive. I bring my hands to his chest in a bid to push him away and I notice how sculpted his muscles are beneath his wet t-shirt. I groan a little before I can stop myself.

 

It’s a primal reaction that has everything to do with how long it’s been since I've had a man inside of me. But this is Henry. I couldn’t possibly… He slides his hands into my hair and deepens the kiss, brushing my lower lip with his tongue as he presses his body against mine. I moan again and my lips part beneath his, letting his tongue inside. This is definitely not what I planned to be doing right now, but my reservations are growing weaker. I feel a hard bulge pressed against my stomach and that drags me into sharp focus. I push him backward firmly and gasp, “Henry, what the hell are you doing?”

H: I'm not sure what madness possessed me to barge in here and kiss my closest friend, but in the moment it feels right to me. Even when she pushes me away and questions me, I find I don’t regret it. Roni is, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. The age difference doesn’t bother me in the slightest, and if it weren’t for Jacinda I probably would have done this sooner. “I'm not sorry. I've been wanting to do that since the first time I saw you.” She looks even more surprised now, like she can’t believe I would think of her that way. “Tell me you didn’t enjoy that. Tell me you don’t want it to happen again and I'll leave, and we can forget this ever happened.” I owe it to her to respect her wishes and give her an out, even though kissing her and hearing her moan has made me hard as nails, but I'm really, really hoping she lets me stay.

R: I hear the words coming out of his mouth but it takes my brain a minute to fully comprehend them. I open my mouth to argue that this is ridiculous and end up closing it just as fast. I can’t lie to him. Still, it takes me a moment to work up the courage to speak the truth. Finally: “I did enjoy it. It’s been a long time since I've had the attention of such a handsome young man.” I can’t believe I'm admitting this to him. I go to speak again but it’s futile. He’s against me again with his hands in my unruly hair and his tongue seeking entrance to my mouth. This time I push my inhibitions aside and kiss him back with all of the skill and pent up frustration I possess. I feel his hands moving down the sides of my neck and I shiver.

 

Soon enough his palms are squeezing my ass while the kiss increases intensity. “Bedroom,” I mumble against his lips. He seems only too eager to comply. He lifts me under my bottom and I wrap my legs around his waist. He carries me into the only bedroom and deposits me on the mattress. I watch with hungry, darkening eyes as he peels his shirt over his head. Next he undoes his jeans and pushes them down to his ankles. My eyes are drawn to the obvious bulge in his boxers and I swallow hard. Instead of taking them off, he crawls on top of me and kisses me forcefully. My fingers splay across his upper back as I kiss him back with just as much vigor. Our lips part after a time and he pulls me into a sitting position so he can tug my tank top over my head.

 

I feel suddenly exposed and fight the urge to cover myself like a virgin. His eyes rake greedily over my chest and I feel a surge of pride in knowing he likes what he sees. He kisses me again and swallows my moans as his hands become filled with my sensitive breasts. His thumbs brushing over the nipples are driving me crazy. He’s lit a fire inside me and now he’s fanning the flames. “Henry,” I gasp breathlessly as he pinches my nipples. I see the smirk on his lips and decide to take back some of the control. I reach between our bodies and cup his erection through the fabric of his boxers, rubbing gently until he closes his eyes and groans. That’s more like it. I use both hands to push his boxers down over his ass and then I give it a firm smack.

 

He jumps slightly at the stinging contact, wide eyed and clearly surprised. I chuckle lowly and grip the back of his neck with my left hand, drawing him in for another steamy, tongue-tangling kiss. Our mouths war for dominance as my right hand circles his considerable shaft, stroking slowly up and down the length of him. He’s large, deliciously so, but not so big that he’ll cause me pain. His hands begin roughly massaging my breasts and I whimper, hips bucking upward to find a source of friction. My voice is much huskier than usual when I say, “Enough foreplay. I need you inside of me.” I'm already worked up and wet from his kissing and touching. I can feel a damp spot growing in my sleep shorts and it’s a testament to how much I need this.

 

“I've got you,” he says soothingly as he pushes me gently to lie on my back. I lift my hips to help him as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of my shorts, and soon I'm laid bare before him. His eyes are glued to my sex as his hands skim over my inner thighs. He slides two fingers through my slit to test the wetness and I groan. My clit is aching and pulsing. My core is clenching with want. A low growl of frustration escapes me and I wrap my hand around his penis. “Now,” I insist. I'm well past the point of having patience. He nods once then shifts his hips into position. Together we guide the head of his swollen cock to my tight, dripping entrance. He pauses for only a second, looking into my eyes, and then he’s pushing his way inside of me. My eyelids flutter and a satisfied moan crawls out of my throat. It takes him three strokes to bury himself entirely within the slippery confines of my pussy. I moan again as he bottoms out because it feels so fucking good to be full of him.

H: Jesus H. Christ, I can’t remember the last time I wanted something as much as I want to stay buried deep in Roni's wet pussy. She feels so damn good wrapped around me like a second skin. Bracing my weight on my hands, placing them on either side of her head, I pull my hips backward then thrust in again slowly. I do this several times so her tight hole can adjust painlessly to my length and girth. I can tell by how tight she is that she hasn’t had sex in a long time. When I feel she’s ready for more, I piston my hips harder to slam my cock into her beautiful cunt. I'm immediately rewarded by her back arching off the bed and her legs wrapping loosely around my waist. Her low moan of appreciation is music to my ears and spurs me to continue after the same fashion.

 

Her natural lubricant makes it easy for me to slide in and out quickly, until I'm pounding her pussy in earnest. “So…fucking…good,” I grunt between thrusts. She moans her agreement and bucks her hips upward to meet mine every time. We find our natural rhythm in a way that says we’re meant to be lovers. Before long, we’re both breathing hard and nearing the edge of bliss. She tightens her legs around me and I slam into her harder, angling my hips to hit her g-spot with every thrust. I feel a sense of triumph when she cries out loudly and stiffens beneath me. Her body trembles in release and I don’t think I've ever seen anything so sexy. I give up my self control and push inside of her twice more before spilling my seed.

 

“Roni,” I groan as my hips jerk erratically then still at last. The next thing I know, a blast of…something…slams through us, radiating outward from where I'm still buried inside of her. The next few seconds are a whirlwind as long forgotten memories flash through my mind. I can tell by the horrified look on her face that the same exact thing is going through her head. Nothing will ever be the same again. I stay perfectly still and try not to focus on how good it feels to be buried balls deep in my mother. We may not be blood relatives but this is the woman who raised me. This shouldn’t have happened. It bothers me considerably less than it should, and that by itself is an entirely different problem.

 

As a teenager hitting puberty, not unlike most boys my age, I realized just how gorgeous my mother was. I fantasized about her and even jerked off a few times while thinking about her, but this is different. This is real. “Mom?” I choke on the word a little and wait nervously for some kind of response. She’s still staring at me wide eyed and mortified.

R: How could things go so horribly wrong? One minute I was basking in the afterglow of one of the best orgasms of my life. The next, I remembered everything about the curse and my life before it. I'm so stunned and horrified that I can’t even move. I know I need to say and do _something_. I can’t stay here with my son’s cock shoved in my delightfully sore pussy. Gods, this is so uncomfortable. I feel him twitch inside of me and that’s the straw breaking that I need to move. I push him off and out of me roughly, grabbing the comforter from my bed to cover myself. I bury my face in one hand and swallow hard, fighting tears of shame and regret. My cursed life seems a world away now that I'm faced with this harsh reality.

 

I have no idea what to say or do now. Henry is standing there at the foot of the bed looking at me like a lost, confused puppy. His cock is shiny with our mingled juices and I quickly avert my eyes, trying not to remember how good it felt when he was pounding me. But Jesus that’s hard to do. He’s not my little boy anymore. He’s a full-grown man who knows how to fuck. My shame increases to unimaginable proportions as the thought occurs to me. “Put on some clothes,” I instruct, keeping my eyes turned away from him. Out of the corner of my eye, I see that he’s doing as he was told. He has his jeans back on when suddenly he doubles over, grabbing his chest with a pained expression. That’s when I remember the rest: The reason I cast the curse.

 

I watch, feeling helpless, as he collapses on the ugly brown carpet. Disregarding my nudity and everything that just happened, I fling the comforter away from me and shoot off the bed. I kneel beside him and cradle his head in my lap, stroking his face as tears roll down my cheeks. He’s dying. Drizella poisoned his heart and forced my hand in casting the curse. I can’t let him die. Desperate, I lean down and press my lips firmly to his. I'm not expecting it to work because Drizella said it wouldn’t, but I have to try everything. To my amazement, I feel a surge of warmth and magic the moment my lips touch his. His eyes fly open wide and he gasps for breath. It worked. I can’t believe it worked. Drizella lied; True Love's kiss is as tried and true as ever. Most importantly, Henry is going to live.

H: I thought for sure I was dying—it certainly felt that way—but Regina saved me like she always does. The pain in my chest recedes after she kisses me and suddenly I know that everything will be okay. Now we just have to deal with what we did. Even more so than before I almost died, I find that I'm not sorry at all. Sitting up, I place my left index finger under her chin and look deep into her eyes so she can read me like an open book, so she can see how serious I am. “I'm not sorry, Mom. About what happened between us. I know we shouldn’t be together in society's eyes, but I'm not sorry. We’re not even blood related.”

R: I can’t believe the words that just came out of my son’s mouth. How can he not be sorry that he fucked his mother? I'm so stunned that I can’t even talk. He’s looking at me expectantly, waiting for some kind of response. I clear my throat and try to keep the tremor out of my voice as I say, “Henry, this isn’t okay. What we did…” I squeeze my eyes shut as the memory of him inside of me assaults me again. “We shouldn’t have done that.” Now he looks like a kicked puppy, like I just took his hopes and dreams away. I want to make it better but I don’t know how. “It can’t happen again,” I say firmly. This time I see his jaw clench and that stubborn expression I know so well. “Why not?” He asks petulantly. “Because you don’t want it to or because you’re afraid of what people would say?”

 

I hesitate because I'm not even sure of the answer. “Of course I don’t want it to happen again,” is the answer I give, but it tastes like a lie. His eyebrows shoot upward and he gazes at me so intensely it’s as if he’s looking into my soul. Can he read my thoughts now? It feels like he can, and the next minute he’s telling me, “I don’t believe you. I believe you don’t want to want this, but I felt you come around me. I know you can’t just forget a fuck like that.” I gasp at his crude but accurate portrayal of our time together. “Henry!” I scold him with my eyebrows pinched together in a frown. He shrugs at me and asserts, “What? It’s true. We fucked and you loved it. So did I.” I feel heat rush to my face and I'm sure my cheeks are burning with shame.

 

“Henry,” I sigh quietly, sadly. “This is wrong.” He shakes his head and takes one of my hands in his. I remember how those strong hands felt on my body and a shiver goes down my spine. Why won’t he let this go? Why is part of me aching for his touch? This is so wrong. “No, it’s not,” he answers. “I love you and you love me. You didn’t give birth to me.” I swallow hard and look away. “I raised you, Henry. You're my son.” I'm speaking so quietly now that my response is barely audible. He captures my chin in his other hand and turns my face back to him. “I'm not that kid anymore. I'm a man now. You don’t have to be ashamed or pretend that no part of you wants this.”

 

He leans in closer to me where we’re kneeling on the floor. Our lips are almost touching and my breath catches in my throat. “Being inside of you was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. My only regret is that it happened when we didn’t know who we were.” I look deep into his eyes, searching, and I can tell he means every word. Part of me _does_ want him, gods help me, but I can’t let this go any further. I pull away from him and stand. Suddenly I'm very aware of my nudity as his eyes roam hungrily over my body. I snatch up my discarded clothing and dress in a hurry as he continues to stare up at me. I run a hand through my hair and ask softly, “Can you leave now? I need some time.”

 

He looks dejected and it slices me like a knife. “Please, Henry… I'm sorry I can’t give you what you want.” He sighs in obvious frustration and picks himself up off the floor. “Fine,” he says, looking away from me at last. He grabs his wet shirt and tugs it over his head. I watch him leave the room wordlessly. My emotions are a confusing whirlwind as he exits the bedroom. Part of me is relieved to be alone—I need the time and space to think properly—but a more disturbing part of me wants him to come back and kiss me senseless. I hear the front door open and close and I sink down on the edge of the bed. The bedding smells like us so I decide to strip the sheets and knock myself out with NyQuil. I can’t think about this anymore right now or I might lose my mind. All I know for certain is that nothing will ever be the same again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 

H: Three weeks have passed since I’ve seen my mother. I’ve been doing my best to respect her wishes and stay away. I figured she would come to me when she’s ready. The problem is that I can’t stop thinking about her. Whenever I close my eyes, I see her writhing beneath me, moaning my name in that sexy bedroom voice. It’s truly overwhelming at times. I’ve been masturbating more than ever with my real-life fantasy playing on repeat in my mind. It’s not just about the sex, though. I’m genuinely worried about her emotional state in the aftermath of what we did. It worries me more that she still isn’t speaking to me. I sit in my apartment at the small kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee that’s barely warm now.

 

I need to talk to her. I need to hear her voice. She’s not only my mother but also my best friend. I figure she might not answer if I call her cell phone and she sees the caller ID, so instead I decide to call the bar. I know it’s underhanded and I should feel guilty, but my need to speak to her is overriding all my other emotions. Picking up my phone, I scroll through my favorite contacts until I find her work number, still saved under the name Roni even though it’s been three weeks since the curse broke. Smiling briefly at her contact picture, I hit the call button and bring the phone to my ear.

 

R: The last three weeks have been absolute hell. I can’t count the number of times I’ve almost picked up the phone to call Henry or wanted to go knocking on his door. I just can’t bring myself to do it. Not yet. With every day that passes, I hope the memory of our tryst will fade. Only that doesn’t seem to be the case. I see him in my dreams and remember his touch. He haunts my waking hours as well. It’s just another day at the bar and I’m wiping down glasses when the telephone rings. I answer immediately, glad for the distraction from my muddled thoughts, and I say out of habit, “Roni speaking. What can I do for you?” There’s a moment of silence and then: “Mom? Can we talk please?”

 

My eyes widen and I suck in a sharp breath. Of all the people calling, I wasn’t expecting it to be him. I’m tempted to be angry that he isn’t giving me the space I asked for, but on the other hand I’ve missed him so much. “Henry… I don’t know…” I clear my throat quietly and look around, unreasonably paranoid that someone will overhear and figure out what happened. “Now isn’t a good time,” I say. “When _would_ be a good time?” He asks. I sigh slowly and raise a hand, pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and index finger. “I don’t know, Henry. Not right now,” I respond vaguely. He continues to push, asking, “Can I come over to see you later?” I frown and shake my head even though he can’t see me.

 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m not ready. Goodbye, Henry.” I hang up the phone without waiting for a response and I immediately feel guilty. I’m a terrible mother in so many ways. I know it’s not fair that I’m shutting him out of my life. It’s not his fault that we slept together; neither of us know who we really were. The problem is, I can’t get the memories out of my head. I can’t help the part of me that wants a repeat and it scares me. I don’t know what I’ll do if I’m around him and he makes a move on me. I’m not sure I’d be able to say no, and that would make me an even worse mother. I go back to wiping down the bar with a frown on my face and I wish for this day to be over.

 

H: As soon as she hangs up on me, I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it in disbelief. I sit there a moment longer then take my empty coffee mug to the sink. I’m rinsing it out when I hear a knock on my door. I’m glad to have the distraction in all honesty, so I wipe my hands dry on a dish towel and go to investigate. I open the door and find Ella standing there with a nervous smile. I’ve seen her twice in the last few weeks, both times because of Lucy, and they were terribly awkward experiences. “Hello, Henry. Can I come in?” I take a step back to allow her inside and ask, “Is everything okay? Is this about Lucy?” She walks inside and shakes her head. “No. This is about us. I was wrong to go back to Nick. I didn’t know what I know now. Will you give me another chance?”

 

Well, that wasn’t what I was expecting. It’s true that I love her and we have a daughter together, but things are different now. I’m confused and all I want to do is focus on fixing the relationship with my mom. If this isn’t about Lucy, it can wait. I stand there awkwardly holding the door open and I try to figure out the best way to answer honestly without hurting her. Finally: “Right now isn’t the best time to talk about this. I have a lot on my mind and I need some time to think about it. Raincheck?” That seems to be the most diplomatic way to handle this. Her face falls in clear disappointment but she nods her agreement nonetheless. “Okay,” she says, “I understand. Will I see you tomorrow at the town meeting?”

 

I smile politely and answer simply, “I wouldn’t miss it.” The meeting is being held to determine whether another curse should be cast to bring everyone back to their proper time and place, or whether the citizens of Hyperion Heights want to stay where they are. I’m betting most people will vote to return to Storybrooke or the Enchanted Forest. Ella leaves and I shut the door behind her with a sigh of frustration. I honestly don’t know what to do anymore.

 

R: It’s closing time when I get an unexpected visitor. Luckily it’s my sister and not my son. I’m scrubbing a sticky tabletop near the front door when she walks in with her mess of red hair. “Hello, darling,” she says as she pulls me in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I return the gesture half-heartedly then continue cleaning the table. She notices my disinterest and bumps my shoulder with her own. “What’s the matter with you?” She asks, full of sisterly concern. I carefully avoid her piercing blue gaze and answer with a shrug, “Nothing. I just have a lot on my mind.” Like mother, like son. “Tomorrow’s meeting,” Zelena assumes and I don’t bother to correct her. “You know everyone will be looking to you to lead them. Have you decided anything yet?”

 

I couldn’t have asked for a better distraction, so I latch on and cling to it for as long as I can. “Actually, yes,” I say, still cleaning the table and not looking at her. “I want to go back to Storybrooke. I miss my house on Mifflin Street. I miss being the mayor.” Zelena nods her understanding and we talk for a few more minutes by the door before going to sit at the bar. I put away my cleaning cloth with the other dirty linens and I sit beside her with two glasses and a bottle of Jack Daniels between us. After pouring three fingers each, which earns me a set of raised eyebrows, Zelena comments, “That kind of day, huh? Not that I’m complaining.” She lifts her glass and clinks it against mine, saying, “Cheers.”

 

I mumble back, “Cheers,” then quickly swallow a large mouthful of the amber liquid. My face scrunches a little and my eyes water as the alcohol burns its way down my throat, but that doesn’t stop me from taking another swig. I feel Zelena’s eyes on me, filled with curiosity, and I want to tell her to stop staring and mind her own business. Instead, I glance at her sideways and answer the unspoken question. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Zelena sips at her drink much more slowly than me and responds after a beat, “All right. But I’m here if you change your mind. There’s nothing you can’t say to me. You know that, right?” I smile tightly and reach over to give her hand a squeeze. “I know. Thanks, Sis.”

 

We spend another half hour drinking together before she decides to go home to her fiancé, who now knows about magic and is luckily okay with it. I’m glad something good came out of this curse for her. I close up the bar and head upstairs to my apartment feeling worn down and tipsy. I strip down to nothing and crawl into bed immediately, groaning in content as the mattress molds itself to the contours of my body. I’m asleep within minutes and swept away to a land of make believe where anything is possible.

 

The following morning, I wake up feeling refreshed and like I can actually handle the upcoming meeting. It’s something that’s been making me nervous, that all of these people are looking to me for guidance and direction. I’m no stranger to ruling the masses, both as the Evil Queen and as Madam Mayor, but this is different. _I’m_ different now. I run myself a hot shower and get dressed for the day. I brew a pot of coffee and have two cups before leaving my apartment. It was decided that the meeting would be held at my bar, and everyone will be showing up within the hour, just past 10 AM. The time ticks by too slowly for my liking, and it gives me the opportunity to think more about Henry. I really want to fix things between us, but how can I do that when we’re not even on the same page? He doesn’t regret what happened and I do. Clearly.

 

A big part of me enjoyed it, I have to admit that to myself and only myself, but I can’t get over the fact that I’m his mother. I raised him and took care of him and loved him like my own. Now he wants more than that and I don’t know how to cope with these strange feelings I’m having for him. Luckily the first person arrives early and it provides me an out from my disturbing train of thought. It’s Hook who steps into my bar with a smile and a nod for me. In our time during the curse, we’ve grown pretty close. He’s not the same man he used to be either. I know he wants to go back to find Emma and return to Storybrooke. I used to think he wasn’t good enough for her, but maybe, just maybe, he is now.

 

“Regina,” he greets me with a nod of his head and his devilish smile. At one particular point of my recollection, that smile had gotten me all hot and bothered during my time as the Evil Queen. Now it simply makes me roll my eyes and smile. “Hook,” I greet him back with a light chuckle. We spend the next few minutes catching up on the last three weeks and then discussing the possible outcomes of today’s gathering. Other people begin trickling in slowly until the establishment is filled to the brim. I wait another ten minutes to begin the meeting, and just as I’m standing on top of the bar to address everyone, I see Henry walk in. My heart stutters for a moment and I suck in a breath, glad that I don’t have a microphone held to my lips. I had known it was a possibility that he would be here, but I had half expected him to skip it after I hung up on him yesterday.

 

I get myself under control quickly and drag my eyes away from him, greeting the crowd before me. “Welcome all. Thank you for joining me here today. We have a very important decision to make, as you all know. This meeting is to decide whether we will stay in Hyperion Heights or return to Storybrooke or the Enchanted Forest. I know it will not be easy—we’ve all gotten settled into our lives here, though many of us still miss home—but we must reach a conclusion soon.” There are nods and murmurs of agreement, and then one bold person shouts, “And what do you want?!” I feel eyes on me from every direction and it puts me on edge. I don’t like being put on the spot like this, being made to feel like my own preference has so much sway over everyone else, but the truth of the matter is that it does. They all want to know what I’m thinking on the matter.

 

Clearing my throat, I politely answer the question. “In all honesty, I miss Storybrooke. I have incredibly fond memories of raising my son there, and I enjoyed being the mayor. However,” I take a short breath and let it out softly, “I know that many of you want to go home to the Enchanted Forest.” I wish for a way to give everyone what they want, but I don’t see how that’s possible. Unless… “I propose a compromise. What if it were possible to bring the Enchanted Forest to Storybrooke, to combine them?” Surprised whispers break out in the crowd and I know I’m on to something here. One person starts clapping and then another, and another. Soon the whole room is clapping and I feel my cheeks begin to flush. This is going much better than I expected.

 

“Settle down, settle down,” I say, waving my hands with a smile on my face. Even though it’s a little embarrassing to be the center of attention, I find that their positive reaction pleases me. The next hour is spent answering questions about how I would combine the realms, and I’m pleasantly surprised to find that I have more answers than I expected, considering I just hatched this brilliant plan in the spur of the moment. Finally we decide to reconvene in a week’s time when we’ll go over the final plan before I enact the curse. People begin to leave, a few stopping to talk to me after I hop down from the bar, but Henry lingers by the door. _Please leave, please leave,_ I think desperately. I’m not ready for this conversation. If he approaches me with witnesses, though, I’ll have to smile and play the part of the good mother.

 

It’s a relief, then, when he finally turns and exits the building with his arm around Lucy’s shoulders. Whew. I didn’t think I was going to get out of that one. Later that night as I’m closing the bar, it appears I was mistaken. Henry shows up at the door as I’m walking out. I freeze on the spot when I see him, when we’re finally face to face, and he says, “Mom, wait… Please. Please let me talk to you. I miss you and I hate not having you in my life.” I take pause at this because it isn’t what I expected to come out of his mouth. I instantly feel guilty for shutting him out these last three weeks. Regardless of whatever inappropriate feelings he may have for me, he’s still my son. I need him in my life too. I feel tears in my eyes and an overwhelming urge to wrap him in my arms.

 

The first tear rolls down my cheek and I do exactly that, moving forward and wrapping my arms around him tight. “I missed you too, Henry.” I keep him against me for a long while, reaching one hand up to wind my fingers through his hair. He’s so tall now, and muscular. I remember all too well how strong he is, how easily he lifted me and… Oh God. Why am I thinking about this? I feel a sudden awareness for the bulge pressing against my stomach. My eyes widen and my whole body stiffens. I absolutely loathe the fact that I’m getting turned on by this. It seems he is too. I know my cheeks are flushed when I pull away because my face feels like it’s on fire. I’m now very aware that we’re standing outside my bar where anyone could see us. “Come inside and we’ll talk,” I offer. I don’t miss the way he grins as I’m turning away to walk to the stairs. Why does that grin send excited shivers down my spine?


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 

R: I open the door at the top of the stairs and hold it open until he’s inside. I lock it behind me then ask, rather unwisely, “Would you like something to drink?” God knows I could use one, but my rational mind should have told me that adding alcohol to this fucked up equation isn’t a good idea. Soon we’re sitting awkwardly beside each other on the sofa, each holding a glass of whisky neat. I down half of mine in one go and I can feel Henry’s eyes burning into me. Then he asks, “Are you okay? You seem a little…I don’t know…off.” I smile tightly at him and nearly lie, because that would be much easier than facing the truth, but in the end my honesty wins out. “I’m not okay, no. I’m very confused.” I hesitate to say any more and he turns to face me on the sofa. Setting his drink aside on the coffee table, he shifts closer to me and takes my hand in his.

 

My other hand trembles with nerves and it’s all I can do not to drop the glass I’m holding or spill my drink. I allow the contact anyway because it’s innocent enough. It’s not crossing a line, I tell myself. “About me?” He asks, looking so curious and sincere that I can’t bear to lie to him. I swallow hard and answer truthfully, “Yes, sweetheart. About you. I don’t know how to deal with what happened when… when part of me enjoyed it. I feel like the worst mother ever right now.” His eyes light up like Christmas and his mouth turns up in a wide grin. I want to tell him that it’s not anything to be happy about, but then his lips are on mine and I’m not capable of speech, literally or figuratively. This is my little boy, my son. He’s kissing me in full recollection of who we are. Gods, he’s good at it. My body is telling me that he’s not a little boy anymore. My body remembers his touch in ways that I’ve tried erasing from my mind.

 

My skin feels like it’s on fire and my brain short circuits all rational thoughts, turning me into a compliant puddle of goo at the way he’s kissing me with his hands in my hair. I feel his tongue against my lips and a whimper escapes the back of my throat, completely unbidden. I push at his chest and pull out of the contact. “Henry, stop, we can’t.” He rolls his eyes in a way that reminds me of when he was a child. He still has that boyish sass. “We already have,” he reminds me. He moves in for another kiss and places his hand on the thigh of my jeans. Heat radiates from his open palm and spreads through me like a wildfire. My lips tingle a little as we’re kissing and I realize it’s my magic reacting to him. I push him away again and he frowns, asking, “Seriously, Mom? You’re telling me you don’t want this?” He moves his hand slowly up my thigh just short of inappropriate.

 

Then he leans in closer and whispers into my ear, “I bet if I slipped my hand into your panties I would find them soaked. I know you want this as much as I do.” A shiver goes down my spine and I bite my lip hard to keep from moaning, both from hearing his dirty talk and from the visual that accompanied it. “Henry,” I whisper, placing my hand over his on my thigh. “We can’t do this again. It’s wrong. I’m your mother.” Henry looks plenty irritated then releases a huff, saying, “No you’re not. I mean you are, but you aren’t. You know what I mean. We’re not biologically related.” I really wish his argument didn’t make sense. I know other people will not see any bright side to this taboo. “You really want this,” I say, slightly amazed as it begins to sink in how serious he is about pursuing this with me.

 

“I really do, and I know you do too. You’re just afraid to admit it because you’re scared of what people would say if anyone found out.” He knows me too well. Emma would murder me for a start. I sigh softly and look into his eyes. How did he get so beautiful? “I do want it. At least part of me does.” He nods and cups my face in both hands, looking into my eyes as he says quietly, “Then stop fighting it. We both want it and we both deserve to be happy after the shit we’ve been through.” He has a point that I can’t argue there. I stare into his eyes and sigh quietly. My mind is working overtime trying to make a decision, but then he kisses me again and my brain quiets. All I can focus on is the feel of his lips on mine and his fingers tangled in my hair, his short nails scraping gently against my scalp.

 

H: I knew when I came here that it would be a challenge to get her to agree to this, but part of me didn’t expect her to agree at all. I figured I would leave disappointed again. But now she’s kissing me back and I’ve never felt anything so wonderful. She knows who I am, who _we_ are, and she’s still kissing me. I break the kiss and take the glass from her hand, setting it down on the coffee table next to mine. Then I look into her eyes again and say, “I want you. You are so beautiful and incredible, and I have never known anyone like you. You mean the world to me in so many ways, and I can’t help the way I feel about you. Please, let me make love to you. Let me show you how much you mean to me.”

 

I see her eyes glisten with the start of tears and it rips through my heart. I don’t know whether they’re happy or sad; she seems conflicted still. Then she kisses me again, full of passion and feeling and raw need, and she whispers against my mouth, “Okay.” My heart leaps in my chest and I find it harder to breathe. This is really happening. I kiss her again and lean into her, pressing her down on the sofa. She wraps her arms around my neck and I settle my hips against hers, letting her feel the evidence of how much this is affecting me. She moans into my mouth and lifts her hips against mine, grinding into me, and it causes me to groan into the kiss in return. Her hands are in my hair. Then she’s tugging at the hem of my shirt and pulling it over my head.

 

I’m tempted to rip her shirt right off of her but I know that action wouldn’t be well received. Her nails scratch down my chest and make me shiver until I stop her, pulling her into a sitting position so I can take off her shirt and bra. My eyes gaze hungrily upon her bare breasts then flicker upward when she licks her lips. I see the moment she hesitates as she reaches for the button of my jeans, but then she pops the button and lowers the zipper. It’s loud in the silence with only the sound of our breathing for company. I stand and quickly push my pants and boxers down around my ankles, kicking them aside carelessly.

 

Her eyes are glued to me and she’s biting her lip. It’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. “Your turn,” I say with a tiny smirk playing at the corners of my lips. She releases her lip from between her teeth and reaches down to undo her jeans. She shimmies out of them and I’m surprised to find she’s not wearing any panties. “Talk about ease of access,” I joke as I move back onto the sofa and hover above her. “You know,” I add conversationally as I press my hips to hers, “I miss those skirts and dresses you wore as Madam Mayor. That’s when I first became attracted to you.” Her eyebrows shoot upward and her hands smooth over my shoulders and upper arms. “Really?” She asks with a little smirk on her mouth. Then, “Maybe you’ll get to see them again. If I’m honest, I miss them too. I miss home.”

 

I seal my mouth to hers in a slow, deep kiss and then whisper against her lips, “You’ll make it back there. We all will. I have faith in you.” Then we’re kissing again and this time it’s harder, more passionate, filled with the promise of what’s to come. I brace my weight on one hand as my other covers a breast, pinching the nipple then rolling it expertly between my fingers. She moans into my mouth and arches her back, and honestly I can’t wait to make her scream. I love the noises she makes when she’s being pleasured. I kiss my way along her jaw to her neck and I stop there to suck at her pulse point, earning myself a whimper when I nibble on her earlobe. Her hands are back in my hair and her short nails are scraping at my scalp.

 

I kiss over her collarbone and down to her chest, taking the other nipple in my mouth and giving it a firm suck. I tease her with slow licks and quick flicks of my tongue, alternating the speed and pressure to have her squirming beneath me. I abandon her breasts and trail my mouth downward over her stomach, leaving burning kisses and wet licks on her perfect skin. I worship every inch of her and trace her hipbones with my tongue. I feel her breath hitch when I kiss the top of her mound reverently. “What are you-” She starts to ask and then stops with a gasp when my tongue plunges between her slippery folds. “Oh god,” she groans as I lick my way from her entrance to her swollen nubbin. I circle her clit teasingly with just the tip of my tongue before taking it fully into my mouth, suckling and rubbing it with the rough grain of my tongue.

 

Soon she’s writhing and moaning beneath me, panting for breath and looking oh so sexy as I glance up from between her legs. “Don’t stop,” she whispers between heavy breaths, and I know this means she’s close. I double my efforts on her clit as I slide one long finger inside of her, curling it upward against the spongy spot that will make her come undone for me. I curl it again and again until she’s shaking and crying out for me with her head tipped back and her neck exposed. It’s such a beautiful neck. I want to kiss it and mark it as mine. I want to wrap my hand around it and squeeze, just enough to make her pleasantly lightheaded. I wonder if she’s into kinks like that, but now doesn’t seem the right time to ask.

 

I lick her gently to help bring her down from her high and then I pull my finger out slowly. My cock is hard as nails from getting her off and I can’t wait to be buried inside her tight pussy again. I remember the way she felt when she came around me, her walls squeezing me in the most delicious way. My cock twitches at the mere thought and I decide I’ve waited long enough. I move up her body with a few strategically placed kisses that cause her to visibly shiver. Then my lips are on hers as I wrap one hand around my dick and guide the tip of it to her entrance. She’s soaking wet and I know it won’t take anything for me to go in all the way. I thrust in slowly and earn myself a low moan from her as I bury myself to the hilt. Being inside of her feels so damn good that I don’t even move for a minute.

 

Finally I break from the kiss and stare down into her eyes as I begin to thrust slowly, taking my time in building a slow rhythm between us. She bends her legs at the knees and presses them to my sides, opening herself up as much as possible in the position we’re in. I continue that rhythm for several minutes then shift to my knees and hook my hands under her thighs. I pull her legs wider then press her knees toward her chest. The new angle lets me get even deeper, and the next second she’s moaning in earnest. I know I’m doing something right by the way she’s gasping and panting for me. “Harder,” she requests breathlessly. I piston my hips faster and harder, pushing my cock as deep as possible, and she cries out, “Oh god, yes!” And on the next thrust a breathless, “Henry!”

 

“I’m going to come inside you, Mom. Are you going to come for me?” Her eyes widen as she looks at me. I wonder if it’s because I called her Mom while we’re having sex. But she slowly nods and whispers, “I’ll come for you, baby.” It’s something she hasn’t called me in a long. It makes me feel loved and safe. It reminds me that this beautiful, intelligent, passionate woman has always been there for me my entire life. I look intently into her gorgeous brown eyes that are nearly black from lust, and then I move my hips even harder and faster than before. She cries out and throws her head back with her mouth open, and I feel her legs beginning to tremble. I know she’s about to come for me. I feel my self-control slipping as I continue to pound her at a punishing pace, but I manage to hold on until I feel her tightening around my cock.

 

I release inside of her with a low groan and a few rough jerks of my hips. She’s clamped down on me like a vice as her whole body stiffens and she screams. It’s lucky we’re alone and the bar isn’t open downstairs. I don’t think she wants this spread around town. We haven’t even talked about our relationship yet or what we want out of this. I lower her legs to the sofa and pull out of her gently, allowing her to relax back into the cushions as she enjoys the afterglow of her orgasm. This has to be the most beautiful way I’ve ever seen her. She looks blissful and free, not weighed down by any of the usual bullshit she has to put up with. Fate has a really cruel sense of humor with the number of times it’s broken her heart. If I have anything to say about it, she’ll never feel alone again. I’m completely in love with her and all I want is to make her happy.

 

We lay there for a while with me half on top of her, simply breathing the same air and looking into each other’s eyes. It’s the most intimate I’ve ever felt with anyone, including Ella. What I feel for Regina is beyond comparison. I’m not upset that the curse brought us closer; I’m happy it did. Suddenly her eyes are filling with tears and her chin is wobbling, and I know that this isn’t the good kind of crying. “Hey, what’s wrong?” I ask while cupping her face in one hand and stroking her cheek with my thumb. She shakes her head a little then breaths out slowly. “Henry, what have we done?” I tilt her chin and stare at her until she meets my eyes. Then I say, “I just made love to you because I’m _in_ love with you. It’s not anything new. I just never had the balls to do anything about it.”

 

She’s looking at me with so much conflict in her eyes I can hardly bear it. I want to wrap her up tight and never let her go, but I can’t force this on her. This has to be her decision too. If she doesn’t want this, I will respect her wishes. I just hope it doesn’t come to that. “I’m scared this means I’m a bad person,” she admits to me in a broken whisper. My heart breaks for her and I shift so I’m sitting up. I pull her into my lap and wrap my arms around her. “You are not a bad person,” I say firmly. “You are the best person I’ve ever known. You made some terrible mistakes, but you’ve made up for that. Everyone considers you one of the heroes now.” She laughs bitterly and retorts, “But what will they think once they find out about us? I doubt they’ll be calling me a hero then.”

 

The fact that she’s considered us continuing this more than twice and people finding out gives me hope. Hope that she’ll say yes to being with me. I just need to find the nerve to ask her. I suppose now is as good a time to step up as any. “Regina, I love you. And I love being with you. I don’t want this to end. I want us to be together. Are you open to that?” She sucks in a sharp breath and stares at me with those wide brown eyes. She takes so long to reply that I start think she won’t answer at all. Then she says, “I…I’m willing to try.” My prayers have officially been answered. My eyes light up and I squeeze her even tighter, burying my face in the side of her neck. I kiss the soft skin there over and over again then pull back to look into her eyes. “I want to make love to you again. Do you think we can make it to the bedroom this time?”

 

There’s a smirk on her lips and a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she answers, “I think we had better. I want you to take me from behind.” My eyes widen at the unexpected comment and my cock hardens instantly. “Yes, your Majesty,” I joke with a grin. She smacks my shoulder but she’s smiling, so I know she’s not mad. “Take me to bed,” she says in that husky bedroom voice of hers. My cock twitches. I stand with my arms hooked under her legs and my hands grasping her ass. I carry her into the bedroom from memory and deposit her gently on the bed. I groan internally at the sight of her as she gets on her hands and knees and wiggles her ass at me. I move onto the bed behind her and guide my cock to her slick velvet heat.

 

I push inside with a moan and she moans with me. I begin to thrust at a steady pace and then I smack her ass with my palm. She cries out in surprise and looks back at me, biting her lip. “Do it again,” she says. A devilish smirk crosses my face as I lift my other palm to smack the opposite cheek. She moans and pushes her hips back against me, hard, jabbing my cock inside her. I groan and swear, “Fuck. Yes.” We continue at our new rhythm until she comes gloriously with her hands fisted in the comforter and her ass in the air. I spill myself inside of her seconds later and drape myself over her back just long enough to press soft kisses between her shoulder blades. Then I roll over and pull her gently into my arms. I hold her and kiss the top of her head as she settles against me. “I love you,” I whisper, and I mean it with every fiber of my being. But nothing means as much as hearing her whisper back, “I love you too.”

 

 


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